ave for the prudent forethought of Mrs. Wilbur in secreting the same just
as I had arrived beneath the walls and was beginning a catalogue of the
various horns and their blowers, too ambitiously emulous in longanimity of
Homer's list of ships, might, I say, have rendered frustrate any hope I
could entertain _vacare Musis_ for the small remainder of my days,) but
only further to secure myself against any imputation of unseemly
forthputting. I will barely subjoin, in this connection, that, whereas Job
was left to desire, in the soreness of his heart, that his adversary had
written a book, as perchance misanthropically wishing to indite a review
thereof, yet was not Satan allowed so far to tempt him as to send Bildad,
Eliphaz, and Zophar each with an unprinted work in his wallet to be
submitted to his censure. But of this enough. Were I in need of other
excuse, I might add that I write by the express desire of Mr. Biglow
himself, whose entire winter leisure is occupied, as he assures me, in
answering demands for autographs, a labour exacting enough in itself, and
egregiously so to him, who, being no ready penman, cannot sign so much as
his name without strange contortions of the face (his nose, even, being
essential to complete success) and painfully suppressed Saint-Vitus-dance
of every muscle in his body. This, with his having been put in the
Commission of the Peace by our excellent Governour (_O, si sic omnes!_)
immediately on his accession to office, keeps him continually employed.
_Haud inexpertus loquor,_ having for many years written myself J.P., and
being not seldom applied to for specimens of my chirography, a request to
which I have sometimes too weakly assented, believing as I do that nothing
written of set purpose can properly be called an autograph, but only those
unpremeditated sallies and lively runnings which betray the fireside Man
instead of the hunted Notoriety doubling on his pursuers. But it is time
that I should bethink me of Saint Austin's prayer, _Libera me a meipso,_
if I would arrive at the matter in hand.

Moreover, I had yet another reason for taking up the pen myself. I am
informed that the "Atlantic Monthly" is mainly indebted for its success to
the contributions and editorial supervision of Dr. Holmes, whose excellent
"Annals of America" occupy an honoured place upon my shelves. The journal
itself I have never seen; but if this be so, it should seem that the
recommendation of a brother-clergyma